


Touched for the Very First Time

by wishforwishes



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Cunnilingus, F/M, Kinktober 2018, Oral Sex, Other, Possessive Behavior, Queer Themes, Rimming, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 17:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16309427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishforwishes/pseuds/wishforwishes
Summary: Suddenly, Taylor was tired of how ridiculous and cagey they were both being. She'd heard before that if you couldn’t talk about sex, you shouldn't be having it. She was a grown woman. She could do this.Or:Harry goes down on Taylor a lot. At first the problem seems to be that he doesn't want her to return the favor. It turns out that couldn't be farther from the truth.





	Touched for the Very First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vondrostes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vondrostes/gifts).



> Happy birthday Terran. Thanks for always providing absolutely top notch sub! and bottom!harry content, and inspiring me to finally finish a fic. Hope you enjoy this!

 

 

Depending on how you defined sex, Harry and Taylor had either slept together four times since they started dating, or hadn’t slept together at all. The thing was, Taylor thought she knew what she was getting into by hooking up with an eighteen-year old boy: boundless energy in bed, but not a lot of foreplay or skill. Usually, that would be something she’d try to avoid, but Harry had been polite and mature towards her from the start, and she’d been curious to find out if that courtesy extended to the bedroom. It did, as it turned out - the first time they hooked up, Harry proved himself to be significantly less dick-first than other guys his age. In fact, he didn’t seem to think about his dick at all. 

 

* * *

 

One night in November, the first time they’d managed to sneak away from their responsibilities long enough to get a feel for each other, he had her laid out on his hotel bed, the both of them still fully clothed. He spent ages kissing her neck, but she was careful to remind him not to leave any marks.

 

Eventually, Harry fastened his mouth to her tits instead, over her clothes, sucking so sloppily that her shirt and bra were sopping wet with drool in record time, and her nipples were pebbled and rubbed raw. By the time he finally made his way down to her pussy, she was wetter than she could ever remember being and clenching down around nothing. 

 

He pushed her skirt up and panties to the side and immediately started giving her clit the same treatment he’d given her nipples. Taylor came in probably two minutes flat, but before she could get her breath back or even think about returning the favor, Harry was licking his way into her properly. His hands stayed clenched and unmoving around her hips as he worked at her, using just his tongue to get up inside her. 

 

He buried his whole face so deep that he had to keep coming up for air. Seeing glimpses of him flushed and covered in her slick from his chin almost to the bridge of his nose made Taylor moan even more than the thorough licking out did. Once he’d gotten her to come again, her pussy spasming around his tongue for what felt like an eternity, she hauled Harry back up to her level and shoved her hand down his pants. But when she finally got her fingers around the shape of him, he was mostly soft. Soft, and so wet that she realized he’d already come, just from eating her out, which. That was almost enough to make her stomach twist with arousal again, even after two orgasms. 

 

* * *

 

So, all in all, their first hookup had exceeded her expectations in almost every possible way. The only problem was that all three times after that, Harry did the exact same thing: diving onto and into her tongue first. He always either came before she did, or insisted that she “didn’t need to worry about it” if she noticed that he was still hard in his pants, and tried to reach for him. She hadn’t yet managed to so much as see his dick, let alone get it inside her in any way. Even though he was so consistently good at eating her out, Taylor still figured she needed to call him out on it the next time they managed to get some alone time - which, as it turned out, was New Year’s Eve, the night of their very public kiss in Times Square. 

 

They were both a little subdued by the time they got back to Taylor’s hotel room. Neither of them enjoyed playing up their relationship for the cameras, no matter how much good publicity they got out of it. She didn’t want to sour the mood more, so she resolved to bring the matter up as tactfully as possible. While Harry threw himself onto the bed and started stripping down to his boxers, she thought up and discarded some possible openers:  _ is there something physically wrong with your penis?  _ Crude, and too confrontational besides;  _ do you not want to  _ properly  _ sleep with me because those gay rumors are true?  _ Still not subtle enough, and anyway, he clearly loved eating her out so much that it would be a pretty stupid question. 

 

As Taylor was mentally wringing her hands over how to phrase things, Harry pulled her onto his lap, kissing her more softly than usual, but also deeply - an antidote to the earlier staged kiss. She returned it, straddling him eagerly, but he must have been able to tell that part of her was distracted. He pulled back and searched her face carefully. 

 

“Are you okay? We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t feel like it,” he said, which was sweet, but his phrasing had Taylor blurting out, “Well, technically I don’t  _ ever  _ do anything,” before she could stop herself. Well. So much for tact. She watched Harry’s eyebrows rise, and he pulled even further away, moving her off his lap and then scooting over to the other side of the bed. 

 

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” he said, sounding fairly neutral, but he looked shifty enough around the eyes that Taylor thought he might already have an idea about what she meant. 

 

“Well, we’ve been dating more than a month, and haven’t actually had sex yet, for starters,” Taylor said, but Harry was shaking his head before she’d gotten halfway through her sentence.  

 

“I don’t think it’s fair to say it like that,” he argued. “I mean, does that mean you think no lesbian couples have ever had sex then? Unless they use a strap-on to-” 

 

“Okay!” Taylor interrupted hastily, blushing a bit, both from being (however gently) corrected about something, and from how casually Harry could use terminology that she still stumbled her way around. 

 

“Okay,” she repeated, trying not to lose focus. “Then forget like, the main event, and just talk about what we’ve actually done so far. As in, what  _ you’ve  _ done so far. You still haven’t let me return the favor. At this point, I’m kind of worried that I’m like, taking advantage of you or something.” 

 

“You’re not taking advantage at all!” Harry insisted quickly. “I really like making you feel good.”

 

“Well, I’d like to make you feel good too, Harry. So I’m asking you why you seem not to want me to touch you.” It took Harry longer to respond to her this time. He stayed quiet for so long, actually, that Taylor sighed and flopped the rest of the way down onto the bed, resigning herself to going to bed frustrated. 

 

“What if I wanted you to  _ actually _ return the favor?” Harry asked eventually, so quietly that Taylor wasn't sure what he'd said at first. And once she did parse it, she was even more confused. 

 

“I mean, that's what I'm offering, so-” Taylor started, but she stopped short when she noticed how miserable and mortified Harry's expression was. It felt like a light bulb had just switched on in her head. “Wait. Do you mean...like, literally return it. Like-”

 

“I know it’s probably gross, you definitely don’t have to,” Harry rushed to get out, saying, “I'm just curious about what it feels like, really,” and then cringing and burying his face in his arms.

 

“Well,” Taylor started slowly, pushing herself up so she could sit in front of him where he was leaning against the headboard, “I could just talk to you more while you…” she trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase it. But with every passing second that she didn't finish her sentence, Harry hunched his arms further up around his ears. He looked one wrong move away from bolting off the bed. And suddenly Taylor was tired of how ridiculous and cagey they were both being. She'd heard before that if you couldn’t talk about sex, you shouldn't be having it. She was a grown woman. She could do this. 

 

“While you go down on me,” Taylor continued, trying to sound more confident than she felt,  “would you want me to tell you how I feel? Like, talk to you about how good it feels when you eat me out.” Harry jerked his face back up at that, shuddering a little at her words. It was an unsurprising reaction, considering how much he always liked to please her. His tunnel vision in that regard  _ was _ why she started this conversation, after all. 

 

Despite how aroused he seemed at the idea, Harry shook his head. “I’d definitely like to do that sometime,” he said. “But, um, if I’m being honest, when I say I want to know how it feels, I mean…” he trailed off again. 

 

“You mean you want firsthand experience.” Taylor finished for him. Harry nodded, still looking embarrassed and a bit like he was expecting to get thrown out of bed. And well. Taylor supposed she could press him about why he wanted it so much - apparently more than he wanted a blow job. She could also tell him it was something she’d never thought about it before, or that the idea didn’t sound very appealing to her right now. But this was the first time Harry had ever asked for something in bed, and he was only asking for something he’d already given her. So Taylor steeled herself, trying to seem at least a little sexy and worldly, and reached down between them to hitch his legs up until they bracketed her hips. 

 

“You want me to eat you out?” Taylor asked, grinding her pelvis experimentally against his ass to punctuate the question. The change in Harry was instantaneous. His eyes glazed over and his mouth fell open a little, probably at both her words and the contact. 

 

“Fuck. Yes. Yes, please,” Harry said, his voice suddenly breathy and high the way hers got when she was really starting to get wet. He started moving his hips back and forth in her grasp, like he already had something inside him. It didn’t seem like he was doing it on purpose: more like he couldn’t help himself. It was like all his confidence and focus from their earlier hookups had melted away, and Taylor saw him as the eighteen-year old boy he was for the first time. She remembered being grateful that his inexperience wasn’t obvious when they first slept together, but seeing him so lost at sea right now - overwhelmed about how turned on he was, and not sure how to handle it - sent a flash of heat straight to the center of her. 

 

Taylor backed up, putting enough space between them to pull Harry’s boxers down his legs with her shaking hands. Once they were out of the way, she pulled him down the bed a bit too, until he was fully lying down and all spread out for her. She settled back between his legs, staring down at where his dick was lying flushed and hard against his stomach. She reached for it on instinct, then had to remind herself he wanted her to touch him somewhere else.  So she corrected course mid-motion, sliding her hands down the insides of his thighs instead, and then farther back, behind his balls, until she felt the soft skin of his ass cheeks. 

 

Once she had her hands properly settled there, she looked up back up at Harry. She slowly dipped her fingers into the cleft of his ass, carefully spreading him open, and studied his face, both to see if he was actually into this and to get some kind of reassurance that she wasn’t messing up in some way.

 

He was looking at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real, and not just something he’d dreamed up. Taylor had written songs about hoping to have a look like that directed at her some day. It gave her enough confidence to look back down at where her hands were holding him open. She found herself suppressing a little gasp at the first sight of his hole, tightly furled and pinker than she was expecting, clenching open and closed slightly as if in anticipation. 

 

She had expected to have to keep her face neutral for his sake; she was looking at the most private and typically dirtiest area of the human body, after all. But it was unexpectedly heady, to see a boy offering himself up to her, the way she usually would have to spread  _ her _ legs and offer herself. 

 

Shaking a little, Taylor leaned closer, and then closer still, until she was so close that she could smell him; it was a clean, soapy scent for the most part, but there was a little hint of musk that she found she didn’t mind. Taylor inhaled and exhaled a few times, mostly trying to hype herself up, but even feeling her breath seemed to rile Harry up; she could hear him biting back gasps at just that minimal sensation. 

 

“You’re like, really into this already,” Taylor observed, aiming for dirty talk and hopefully avoiding judginess. “You haven’t done anything like this before? Not even fingers?” 

 

Harry took a moment to let out a whoosh of air, and his voice almost sounded calm when he answered her. “I- once. In the shower. Just my fingers. But no one else has ever-” he cut himself off with a strangled groan as Taylor leaned the rest of the way forward and licked a line up the cleft of his ass. She pulled back, licking her lips and trying to decide how she felt about the taste. 

 

“This might sound creepy or weird, so sorry, but I’m really glad I’m the first person to do this to you.” She didn’t give him a chance to get his breath back enough to answer, just dove back in, trying to match how enthusiastic Harry always was about going down on her. 

 

She started slicking up her chin and his hole with drool fairly quickly, which was a little undignified - but ultimately convenient because Harry couldn’t get wet on his own like she could. She only worked her way up and down a few more times before focusing on the very center of him, sucking at his hole relentlessly, trying to get him to open up enough for her tongue. 

 

She would have pulled off to check if she was doing alright, but Harry couldn’t have been more transparently into it if he’d tried. He was whimpering almost without pause, trying to squirm his ass closer to her face, and in her peripheral vision she could see his hands clenching on his thighs like he was trying with all his might not to grab at her hair and shove her further into him.

 

Eventually, he relaxed enough that Taylor could get her tongue inside, and yeah, okay. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, exactly, but she was so turned on at this point that it almost tasted good anyway. It just tasted like Harry. A piece of the Harry Styles puzzle that no one else had ever had. She worked her tongue in as deep as she could manage, trying to ignore her possessive train of thought and figure out the logistics of how she should do this. But then again, leaning into the possessiveness had worked out in her favor so far. 

 

So she started stabbing her tongue in and out of him with as much force as she could manage, working her jaw so much it was sore within minutes. But it was worth it for the way Harry’s wordless moans morphed into breathy exclamations of her name, so high-pitched now that Taylor could almost say she knew now what it was like to go down on another girl. Inexplicably, she felt her eyes roll back and her pussy start to drip at the thought that Harry  _ was  _ a girl right now, in a way. Her girl. She could feel him starting to clench around her, and she felt strangely powerful, knowing that he was close to coming even though she still hadn’t actually managed to touch his dick. 

“Taylor,” he choked out, sounding wrecked, “Taylor, please, put your fingers in me, I need them, please,” and god, Taylor could feel herself clenching now too, at the thought of shoving another piece of herself inside him; at the thought of owning him even more; at the thought of him wanting it. 

 

But she took her mouth off him instead, and when he immediately started whining in protest, she crawled her way up his body, gripping his face as she said, “Wouldn’t be a good idea. My nails are too long.” She watched his expression crumple for only a second before she added, “Don’t worry. Next time I’ll fuck you properly,” and just like that, Harry’s whole face went slack. She looked down between them to see his cock twitching as he came, completely untouched: just from her words, the leftover feeling of how she’d pried open the core of him, and the promise that she was going to get herself even further inside him in the future.  

 

Despite all the downsides that tended to come with inexperience (for both of them, in this case), this had turned into pretty much the most amazing moment of Taylor’s sexual life thus far. It was almost enough to make her come too, but she needed at least a little stimulation. Before she could reach down to thumb at her clit, though, Harry scrambled down the bed and got his mouth on her, with the exact same enthusiasm he’d always shown before. But the way his hands stroked the insides of her thighs as he ate her out was new. It felt a lot like gratitude, the bone-deep kind that you can’t bring yourself to express out loud. 

 

Taylor figured they should probably have a conversation eventually - why he’d wanted it so badly and why he’d been so grateful to have it. It would probably be the same conversation where they talked about why she’d gotten so hot over treating him like a girl, or even (she thought guiltily) a bit like something she owned. 

 

But there’d be time for that conversation later. For now, Taylor focused on riding Harry’s face into the mattress, clenching around him so tightly that she was probably suffocating him at least a little. As she got close, she wasn’t focusing on how Harry’s mouth felt on her, but instead on how she would feel if he was in her place, and she was in his. How he’d be dripping wet and all full up of her. How she wouldn’t be able to catch her breath because of how tight he was, all around. 

 

The both of them, literally caught up inside each other. 

 

It had the potential to make a damn good song, Taylor thought, and then she closed her eyes, and came. 

 


End file.
